Packing Bags

[Readicti 902]

 

 

Olive eyes rest on the waning candle, the only lighting in the dark, stone room Amuril Des’Nox called home. A small pearl of wax drips from her candle onto the corner of the letter she’d been working on through most of the night. It is early morning now, the sun still deciding if it was going to wake up. Why was this so difficult? With a soft sigh, the woman continues writing with a feather quill onto thick parchment, choosing her words carefully.

 

~*~*~*~

 

My dearest family and friends,

 

It pains me to write this letter but I cannot ignore this heavy feeling in my heart any longer. The more time I stay in the Dominion and the more invested I become in its success, the more I realize I need to leave. I never intended to become so entangled in politics or to try to balance a family that is slowly falling apart. I cannot stand tall by the side of my family or my political friends, knowing I am not at my strongest and most of what they see is a facade while, honestly, I am scared.

 

I know most will not forgive me for this choice but I hope you’ll understand that I need to leave and figure out who I want to be. When I returned to these lands, I was a confused girl and I cannot in good conscious say I have grown, only faked it. But when I return, I hope I will be someone others can be proud to stand beside and unwavering in my intentions.

 

To my husband Arveldir, I know this decision to leave hurts you the most. We both know we were living a lie, ignoring the fact I was never going to be the one to fill what you need. I will always be your second choice, your comfort for this world. I need to grow on my own before I can try to be enough for you and to be proud to stand beside you in Stargush’stroh. Thank you for taking care of me and teaching me and loving me through all my faults. Teach Ardreth the softer sides of being a man, it’ll come in handy for him one day. And support your daughter. You might not always agree with what she does, but she does it with passion and that should always be encouraged. When we next meet, I hope you will be proud of what you see.

 

My father Dwyn, Please remember that your own happiness matters too. That happiness you’re looking for will come not from the romantic attentions of others but from being confident in yourself and the attention of your family. This time I have to be the one to leave you and I am sorry that I have to give you more hurt than you’ve already experienced.

 

Lord General Diraar. There is so much I wish I could tell you and will not have the time or the words. I only hope you know that I will remember what happened fondly and with regret that life were not only a little different. If I could, I’d freeze myself in that moment you were given the raffle prize. Please stay strong for the Dominion and try to give yourself a little bit of a break to enjoy the things that really matter.

 

Azoth and the rest of the council. I’ve enjoyed your friendships and wish I had gotten to know most of you more. Remember to always work for the betterment of the people as a whole and not for yourselves. There are many out there that will try to tear us down and it is because of those that sat at our table that the Dominion will always come forward as victorious.

 

Olnin. That question you asked in your last lesson, I cannot answer it at this point in time. I am sorry to be a disappointment but I suppose I was able to lead you to your true student. When I return, I hope I can finally answer your question and prove that I am not such a horrible student that you sometimes believe me to be.

 

I am sure there are many others I’ve forgotten but I’m sure I will have the chance to see them again. Thank you all for the lessons I’ve learned and giving me much to contemplate. I will keep all of you close to my heart wherever I end up going and I hope to return one day a better person.

 

Lady Amuril Des’Nox

 

~*~*~*~

 

Amuril leaves the letter for Arveldir, knowing he would share it to others. She moves silently through the clan hall, probably one of the last times she would see the hall and her home as it stands now. “Goodbye.” She murmurs softly, closing the door and continuing on her way to whatever adventures await.

 

~*~*~*~

 

(( I should be clear that I am not leaving the server, and if anything I am more active than I’ve ever been! But there comes a point in playing a character where you’ve run out of motivation for to play who they are and I’ve reached that point. Amuril was created as a fun character to run around on in my freetime and somehow ended up a figure in the Dominion with a large family! However, that very growth is what made playing on her difficult. When others want me on her more than I want to be on her, it become a chore and put me in a situation that I never want to be in when it comes to the server. I came back with the promise to myself I’d do this for fun, not to try to run anything again!
I’m sure I’ll see most of you around :) Remember, if you don’t enjoy what you’re playing, put it down and come back later. ))

 

[Supah 334]

 

Arveldir works away silently, busying himself in his forge as his hammer works at the red hot metal placed upon his anvil. The great hammer, which bares the visage of Jiub himself, swinging away and sending out sharp rings throughout the harbor. He’d been at this single blade for hours now, the master blacksmith unable to finish a simple iron sword, yet he works away into the night…


 

Upon his workbench rests a sash, blue lines snaking across it like a stream along the forest floor
 

[OhDeerLord 673]

Dwyn reads over the letter and lets out a breathy sigh, wishing she was able to say goodbye in person but understanding her desire to slip away before she was convinced otherwise. Leadership was difficult, especially when it's thrusted unexpectedly onto you, because you were the first to speak up, the first to act and take responsibility.

 

He's proud, of what his daughter has done for the city, even as its often a thankless job. He sends a prayer her way, mumbling under his breath that the aspects watch over her, that they keep her path free of brambles and danger, so that she may return to her family someday. He prays to the Ancestors, so that they may guide her in finding her own future, built upon the foundations of the past and the lessons she has learned. He hopes she finds her way.

 

He folds the letter neatly, setting it away where he can read it again later and sets out to meet Arveldir and Ardreth, offering comfort in family during this time.

[Quavinir_Twiceborn 1050]

Quavinir sighs after reading the letter, rather silently giing a prayer of intercession for Amuril's happiness and health, and a futher prayer of thankfulness for not being publically called out for anything upon Amuril's departure.

[Dromui 755]

The days had been difficult, the weeks excruciating, the months, well, it's best not to talk about the months. The Lord General had busied himself beyond the capability of a single mali'ker the moment Amuril turned from him and left him to himself within an alcove, carved from the stone the tavern itself was nestled in. The Lord General could recall every second of the kiss the duo shared as if it had happened only seconds before. However it did not. It had been well over a year by the time the letter found it's way into his hands, since Amuril Des'nox and Diraar of Caras Eldar had shared their kiss. It was passionate, everything the dark elf genuinely felt and cared for within his arms, finally. But the moment of elation quickly vanished as Amuril departed. 

 

And now he sat alone within his home, the wounds within his heart that never quite healed, bursting open. The pain felt real, akin to a blade piercing his flesh, but it was far worse than any blade. A cleric could heal any stab, cut, or thrust of an assailant. A cleric could not heal the cracked, stony heart of the Lord General. 

 

His hand wiped at his face, whether in contemplation or to clear the growing mass of tears, one could not tell. But as the tears came on, so too did the anger, the sorrow, the feeling of loss he hated so much, clawing back into view. His home was empty, thankfully. His fist first made contact with the wood of his desk, slamming aside his inkwell and quill, various sheets of paper sent awry by his growing rage. Soon the Lord General turned, his fist making contact against the stone wall before him, the hand itself crunching in a way one would come to describe as sickening. Turning away from the wall, he pressed his back against it and slid down the cold surface, his shaking hand grasping at the paper near to him.

 

Once more the Lord General scanned the note before him, his eyes memorizing every curve and point of her script.

 

And once more his eyes blurred as tears once more fought their way to freedom, cascading down his cheeks.

[The Fact Core 511]

A dark elf father cries in the shadows.

[Fitermon 668]

Rilath rubs a hand against his chin. "... ***** supposed to collect my taxes."

[gandalfo 1452]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.